


Threshold

by CollisionTheory



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Beta is second in the Greek alphabet but my betas are number one in my heart, Choking, Choking gone wrong, Clone Trooper Inhibitor Chips (Star Wars), Consensual Mind Control, F/M, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Inhibitor chip takes over, Jedi Mind Tricks (Star Wars), Not Canon Compliant, Order 66 (Star Wars), Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:54:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29738343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CollisionTheory/pseuds/CollisionTheory
Summary: Bly asks Aayla to use a mind trick on him during sex. What was supposed to enhance a roleplay scenario crosses some wires in Bly's inhibitor chip, activating it early.
Relationships: CC-5052 | Bly/Aayla Secura
Comments: 9
Kudos: 29





	Threshold

**Author's Note:**

> Big thank you to my beta Blue_Daddys_Girl for looking at this multiple times, and especially for the valuable suggestions regarding the end dialogue!

Aayla rocked over Bly’s lap, kissing the tattoos on his cheeks as he gripped her shoulders, assisting her motions as she came down on his cock. 

“Bly, are you sure?” 

He pressed her into a long kiss, then a jolt of sensation shocked his lips apart as she squeezed around him, his response a hot gasp that ghosted over her jaw. 

“Yes. I want to,” he breathed, hands sliding forward to massage her breasts, then down to the firm muscles of her midriff that he loved so much. 

She was carried away by his touch, his insistent grip on her body, by the heat and motion they generated as one, falling into each other. And she let that get the better of her this time. 

“Okay…” She pressed the side of her face to his, his stubble scratching her cheek. “…like we talked about.” 

He hadn’t known what to call it when he’d first broached the subject, but he’d seen her wave her hand in front of a captured CIS agent and compel the person to tell her things he hadn’t wanted to say. Later that evening, condemned to sit in an uncomfortably warm tent with some staff officers for a meeting that could have easily been a holo message, the random thought struck him that he wanted Aayla to try something like that on him too. 

It was the hottest thing he could imagine– trusting her completely, ceding total control of his body to become a tool for her. He panted into her neck, already seeing her lekku-curling orgasm in his mind, imagining the blood ringing in her ears as clearly as if it were his own, his lover driven speechless and deaf with pleasure because of him. 

Aayla shut her eyes as he grabbed her hips to take some of the work out of her movements. She gripped him back, touching him like he was something new to explore regardless of how many times they’d been together, then brought her hands up to cradle his head. She took hold of a thread in the force and tugged his mind along with it. The thread she shaped into the pattern for the scenario they’d discussed, where she was a double agent for the Separatists, and he’d waited until she was in a compromised position to let her know he’d found her out. 

Aayla locked him in her gaze like he was her complement to the opposite pole of a magnet. She chased the feeling of his cock filling her, breath shallow as her excitement mounted. A ridge of smooth muscle inside her pulsed over him on a deep downstroke, and Bly clutched her tighter, shot through with a passion that demanded he be as close to and as aware of her as possible. 

“You caught me, commander…” Aayla purred, sending a wave of the force into his mind. 

It shuddered over Bly’s consciousness, spreading through his body like the warmth and pressure he’d felt the first time he’d gone inside her. It felt so natural, all his love and trust colluding to empty his brain as the force compulsion took hold, eager to see his will replaced by her own. That was all he wanted. 

“Now that I’m a traitor to the Republic, you should punish me...” She kissed him, tongue touching his, rippling goosebumps over Bly’s back and shoulders. “… _choke me_.” 

His pupils exploded, deepening the brown of his eyes. Something twitched awake inside his head, and it joined a constructive feedback loop with her words. 

_Traitor to the Republic._

A singular intention took over, burning in his throat and stomach and putting acid on his tongue. His hands shot up, fingers cinching around Aayla’s neck. She gasped and tightened around him, gripping his cock like a demand while he squeezed her throat, defaulting to the rawest method that Kamino had flashed-trained into his subconscious years ago. 

He growled and twisted around, throwing her onto the bunk with the weight of his body. The sheets were tinged with stale sweat and dirt from when the 327th had returned last night from a field op, Bly too damn tired to do anything but slough off his armor and crash in the blacks he’d lived in for weeks. Now the smell of it mixed with the smell of sex, with the incredible feeling of her slick and hot around his head and shaft. 

“Bly!” Aayla gasped. 

The commander wondered what that was supposed to mean.

Aayla’s eyelids fluttered as he pumped into her, her hum of satisfaction growing into a moan as his pace increased along with the pressure of his fingers around her neck. 

“Bly,” she called again, expecting the usual teasing comeback from him. 

But none came.

All Bly’s training had been about bringing force to bear on a target, imposing unacceptable costs on the enemy to force them to accede to your will. And killing them before they killed you. It used to be that he was never so aroused as in a firefight, never savored satisfaction like coming down from the high once the target stopped moving, dead and broken. He felt that now but compounded, pleasure spot-welded to bringing death in his engineered brain. He’d been created a soldier, a perfect killer, but moments ago he’d finally found out _why_ , what the true mission was. And it felt so good to know. 

Aayla’s world was so small now– the bunk, her own body, and her commander over her, the heat of his body against her skin. Stars winked and swam in the corners of her vision as her head started going fuzzy. Then Bly made an animalistic sound that vibrated deep inside him as he thrust harder into her, grinding the sweat of his body into hers. He was so hot for her that she felt almost drunk with it, clenching her abs, writhing beneath him as she kneaded the muscles of his back. 

His chest was on fire as he huffed the fumes of a hundred battles, thrusting and choking to chase the adrenaline as he fucked her over his rack, thumbs against her windpipe as her lekku made jerky motions, legs twitching and trapped beneath all 85kg of his body. 

“It’s good… _very_... but let go a little...” Aayla struggled out. 

He kept squeezing, his head turned to the side, not even looking at her. Something nipped at the edge of Aayla's awareness. His presence in the force seemed... oddly impersonal.

He panted through gritted teeth, edging his orgasm until he could kill the Jedi, the traitor, until he could complete his final mission.

He’d finish then, and only then, head empty, body turned into the machine it truly was. Getting off on the satisfaction of finishing the last job, of his mind diving into a dark place that felt so fucking satisfying to finally be in.

“Bly...” Aayla’s hands and feet were tingling. “Bly, not so hard.” 

She rocked into Bly’s thrusts, greedy for him, waiting for that shot of cold air to rush into her lungs when he’d take his hands off her windpipe as agreed, flooding her with a dopamine rush to push her over the edge and force her to come.

But he didn’t loosen his grip, didn’t let go. 

Aayla’s eyes flitted around, trying in vain to catch his gaze. She tugged on his arms, trying to swallow back a ball of nascent panic. Her vision was getting fuzzier now, blurring Bly as he slammed into her, trapping her arms between them. There was a wrongness in the force congealing around him that was almost predatory, something that had none of the easy familiarity and love he had for her. 

He felt like a stranger.

Aayla’s lungs started to burn for want of oxygen, and something was clearly very wrong. Bly had always listened to her before, always respected her. Now he looked like he wanted to consume her, breath coming more and more ragged as he kept fucking her. His cock was already twitching as he went over the edge, and still he squeezed her throat harder.

So she shut off the mind trick, snuffing it out in a wild burst of the force. 

Bly dropped back into himself with the abruptness of being torn from a dream. With a low, strangled sound he jerked his hands away from Aayla’s neck, dazed for a moment like the shockwave of an airstrike had rattled through his head. 

He heard Aayla gasping, then calling his name above the background of his own mute horror. For an absurd moment he didn’t even recognize the name as his or that he had one at all, that he was anything other than his CC number. 

Aayla coughed, shifting under him and looking apprehensive.

Bly was trembling, face etched with distress as his eyes darted around her, white noise filling his head.

“ _Aayla…_ ” He gulped down her name, then reached out to stroke her face but snapped his hand away at the last moment, afraid that his touch might sting her. “Did I– are you–”

Worry and concern abutted self-disgust and confusion, and he was caught between wanting to touch her as a physical assurance that she was alright and wanting to keep her away from him for her own good. 

“I’m... I didn’t– I’m sorry _._ ” He struggled to form the remaining words. 

Though Aayla could sense how he felt in the force, how wildly he was projecting his regret, hearing it put into words reassured her. And he finally felt like _Bly_ again, the comforting force presence she’d grown so accustomed to bathing in over the years.

She touched his arm and he pushed himself off of her to go sit at the edge of the bunk. She got up with him, crawling over. 

Bly’s palms were pressed into the sides of his skull like there was something in him that had to be squeezed out and excised. When Aayla put a hand on his shoulder, he shrugged it away. 

Her heart felt crushed, mashed with guilt as she sensed the pain and panic coming off him in the force, something wild and frightened.

“Bly, love, I–”

He stared at her. Love? He didn’t think he deserved that right now. 

He got up and walked a few paces to the end of his quarters, bracing himself against the wall. His memories of what had just happened were fading fast, leaving only ghost-like impressions of what he’d been feeling and echoes of lost thoughts. And it made him want to vomit. 

He’d had nightmares of killing Jedi before, of some important mission he and his brothers had, but he’d never dreamed of killing Aayla… The details were lost but something curdled and bitter sat in his stomach, and it made Bly wonder if he’d never had that particular nightmare because he’d been waiting to act it out instead.

Aayla walked over to him, wrapped her warm body around his. He shut his eyes and let her do it, hating that she was still willing to touch him, that he couldn't bring himself to tell her about the dreams lest she guess how fucked up he apparently was beneath. 

She ran her hands up and down his back by way of comfort, speaking softly.

“You didn’t hurt me…” She tilted her head up, kissing the side of his face.

Bly kneaded his fingers into the palm of his hand, pressing his fist into the wall. He just swallowed. Breathed. 

“I’m okay Bly, I’m okay… you–” Aayla paused, squeezing him like it’d stop his trembling, talking into his skin. “You didn’t know what you were doing. That wasn’t you.”

“ _No_ , I fucked up.” He shook his head at the wall. “I think I wanted to– I–” His eyes flew open, staring unfocused in front of him, groaning a little. 

She circled her fingers over his wrists, bringing his arms down. Then he held her, curling around her body. 

“I can’t– I don’t remember, Aayla, _I don’t remember._ ” Bly choked out. “But I... just _know_ –”

“No Bly, no... no... shh…” She rubbed his back, steady and calm, breathing him in. “You didn’t hurt me. We stopped when I wanted to.” 

Aayla closed her eyes as he brought his hands up, tentatively stroking her lekku like she was something fragile. She shouldn’t have done this, used a mind trick on him. He’d asked her, but she should have known not to. In the force he was frayed at the edges, skittish and confused, ashamed. And it killed her to know that it was her fault, that she’d taken the mind of the person she loved and had been so careless with it.

She kissed him again and whispered sweet things in Ryl, rubbing his back, rocking into him slowly as they embraced. Bly wouldn’t understand her words, she knew, but she hoped it’d be like hearing quiet music, gentle enough to pull his imagination away. As she tried to comfort him, she turned over questions in her mind, disturbed by the fact he couldn’t remember what had just happened. On an instinctive level it almost made sense to her that he’d felt like a different person in the force then, like a stranger, almost blank. He hadn’t felt like ‘Bly’ at all then, so why should he be able to remember actions that weren’t Bly’s? Aayla bit the inside of her cheek; _of course_ they were his... 

She pulled her head away from his chest and took his face in her hands, fingertips soft over the hinge of his jaw. 

“Look at me,” she said. “I was...irresponsible...with the force...” 

“Mmm...no.” He brought up a hand and held her wrist, sliding his hand down the length of her arm. “I asked you for– for that.”

“And I should’ve said no. I’ve never gone into somebody’s mind like this, not somebody I...someone I... ” Her throat ached and her eyes watered with small tears. It would hurt too much to say it now. 

He rubbed her collarbone, her shoulders, then pulled her into him again, not wanting her to feel this way. 

“You couldn’t have known...” 

Known this would happen. Known there was more to him, something he himself hadn’t known about. 

He felt like he’d dived to the bottom of an icy lake and found another version of himself there, living in the dark. He’d recoiled, swimming away, but some part of it had come floating back up with him as he broke the surface. And now he was simultaneously not the same person anymore, and more of the person he’d been all along. He’d shove that part back down and drown it if he could.

“You know we’re– we were made differently, back on Kamino. Not the same as Jango. We’ve been altered, I don’t know how, and...” 

That was all he had. He didn’t know how else to tell her that she wasn’t responsible. 

Aayla nodded, following his words with a bob of her head and lekku. She sniffed. 

“...and made you resistant to…” She swallowed, afraid to use ‘manipulate’ because that’s what she felt she’d done. “...to being affected by the force.” 

“Yes.” He hugged her tight, reassuring her. “Must’ve done that. Makes it harder for an enemy like Dooku to control us, in case we’re captured.” 

For all Aayla was a Jedi master, there was still so much she didn’t know about the force, so much that was mysterious. There were things that Master Yoda didn’t even understand about the living force, and the cosmic force was an even greater unknown. Perhaps this was one of those things. Her heart thumped, pained that she’d stumbled on the bounds of her ignorance like this, that Bly had suffered for it. Her throat would be fine, but she was worried about what she’d done to him. 

Wordlessly, Aayla pulled him back to the bunk. She sank down onto the thin mattress beside him, legs touching, holding their hands together, leaning into him as he held her. 

“And that’s why you can’t remember…” she mused, rubbing her cheek on his shoulder. “So you can’t pass any intelligence to aid the Separatists.” Like he was a different person entirely, somebody who never knew her, who had no information to give. 

“Right.” Bly forced conviction into his voice, needing it to be true, needing to forget that it might not be. “It’s built into us. The Kaminoans knew what they were doing.” He rested his head on hers.

He thought back to the twitch he’d felt just before his memory had gone blank, and rubbed the right side of his head without thinking about it. Aayla had used the force on him before, but he’d never been able to physically feel it like that. But mind tricks were likely different. 

Bly huffed out a silent laugh. What the kriff did he know about the force anyway? 

“What is it?” Aayla looked up into his face.

Bly just looked at her for a moment, taking in her face, the sweep of her lekku, everything about her being. He took a deep breath.

“I love you,” he whispered. 

Aayla knew. 

She held him in a kiss, and tried to blot out the unsettling fact that she now also knew he was capable of becoming someone who, perhaps, didn’t.

Bly smiled beneath her lips as her own covered his mouth, secure in the knowledge that he’d never hurt her again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus crack fic version of the intro:
> 
> Aayla rocked over Bly’s lap, kissing the tattoos on his cheeks as he gripped her shoulders, assisting her motions as she came down on his cock.
> 
> “Bly, are you sure?”
> 
> He pressed her into a long kiss, then a jolt of sensation shocked his lips apart as she squeezed around him, his response a hot gasp that ghosted over her jaw.
> 
> “Yes. I want to, for you.”
> 
> “Okay, we’ll get noodles then,” she said, balancing her data pad off to the side in one hand as she opened the Naboo Eats app.


End file.
